


We Aren't Dirty

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Minor Injuries, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 10:43:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dean comes back from what was supposed to be an easy solo hunt badly injured. Is it the pain meds making him act weird?





	We Aren't Dirty

Sam heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine stop in front of the motel room and cut. He waited for the drivers door to slam before shooting out of his chair and opening the door.

“What took so-” Sam cut off when he registered Dean’s appearance.

“Hey, Sammy.” Dean had one hand pressed to his side, blood covered his face and clothes.

Sam rushed to Dean’s side, pulling his free arm across his shoulders, helping him inside.

Dean tried to push him off but was too weak. “I’m fine, it’s not that bad.”

Sam didn’t say anything. He wanted to get mad, to scold Dean for being careless enough to get hurt but he had to make sure Dean was alright first.

He led Dean straight to the bathroom, setting him down on the toilet seat. Dean groaned at the change in position.

Sam pulled at the hand Dean had still pressed to his side.

Dean continued to try to wave him off. “I’m fine. You don’t have to play nurse. I’ll take care of it.”

“Let me see,” Sam insisted. “Don’t be a jerk.”

Dean relented, pulling his hand away, sticky with blood.

Sam knelt beside him to get a closer look. It didn’t look like it was still bleeding too bad but it was hard to tell with Dean’s shirt in the way. Sam tried to move it but it was stuck to the wound with dried blood.

Dean winced. “We got any painkillers left?”

Sam stood up. “Yeah, I’ll get you some. Then you’re getting in the tub so I can try to get that shirt off you.”

Dean groaned. “Come on. It’s not that bad.”

Sam came back with some supplies, including a medicine bottle and set it all on the edge of the tub. He filled a cup of water and handed it to Dean with the pills. Dean shook out a small handful and swallowed them greedily.

“Dean, you're only supposed to take two! How many was that?”

He shrugged and downed the water. “Four or five maybe?”

Sam bent down and started undoing Dean’s laces, shaking his head.

Dean grumbled some more but Sam ignored him. He decided it wasn’t worth arguing with Dean over his jeans and helped him into the tub clothed.

Sam started the water, making sure the stopper was down so it wouldn’t fill the tub. Dean let his head rest against the wall, eyes closed. Sam grabbed a cloth and climbed in the tub, sitting across the lower half of Dean’s legs. He soaked the cloth and brought it to Dean’s side.

“This might sting,” he said over the sound of the water.

Dean grunted in acknowledgement.

Sam brought the cloth to Dean side, dabbing and trying to soak away the dried blood till the shirt was unstuck. It didn’t take too much. Sam tugged at the hem of Dean’s shirt. “Help me get this off.”

Dean raised his arms over his head, letting Sam pull it off and tossed it aside.

Sam gasped when he saw the collection of purple and black bruises across Dean’s chest.

“What happened?” Sam asked, breathless. He met Dean’s eyes. “It was only supposed to be a lone werewolf, and it’s not even the full moon.” He tried to keep the scolding out of his voice.

“He wasn’t alone,” Dean said.

Sam bent forward to examine the wound on Dean’s side. “Is this from a claw?” Sam frowned.

“Gunshot,” Dean grunted as Sam prodded at it. “Got my gun away from me,” he admitted.

Sam didn’t comment on the carelessness. “You’re lucky. It’s only a graze. I don’t think it needs stitches.”

“I told you it wasn’t that bad.”

Sam rolled his eyes, relief making him smile. “Yeah, you’ll live. I’m still gonna clean you up though.”

“I’m not that dirty. Just let me sleep.” Dean leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Sam didn’t listen and Dean must have been tired to not protest more than that. He watched Sam as he worked through, eyes flicking to Sam’s and skittering away every time they met. It made Sam nervous but he ignored it.

Now that he knew the wound on Dean’s side wasn’t too bad he focused on Dean’s face. He had a split above his eyebrow and nick on his chin. It looked like they both bled at lot at the time and had stopped now. He cleaned the wounds with the water, checking how deep they were. He got Dean cleaned up as best he could without actually giving him a bath. Dean wouldn't allow that, even as injured as he was and Sam turned off the water regretfully. He applied some antiseptic to the wounds and bandaged them as best he could.

He sat back. “Okay. You’re done.”

Dean just looked at him, pupils dilated with the effects of the painkillers. He smiled. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Sam blushed. “What? Did you hit your head?” He leaned forward to check Dean’s hair for bumps he might have missed.

Dean shook him off, bringing a hand up to brush the hair out of Sam’s eyes. “Nah, I didn’t hit my head. It’s just, obvious, you know.” His fingers curled along Sam’s jaw. “Anyone could see it.”

Sam looked to the side but didn’t pull away. Dean’s fingers were cool against his heated cheeks, callouses sending shivers over his skin. “How strong are those pain meds?” he said with a shaky laugh.

Dean grinned. “Strong enough to give me the guts to do this.” He sat up, pulling Sam to meet him and brought their lips together.

Sam froze, eyes wide. Dean’s eyes were closed, a peaceful expression softening what Sam could see of his face.

Sam melted, bringing his hands up to wind around Dean’s neck and kissing him back.

Dean hummed happily, pulling Sam closer and flicking his tongue against Sam’s lips. Sam opened eagerly, deepening the kiss.

When Dean lowered his hands to Sam’s hips, squeezing in a way that asked for more, Sam pulled away.

“Dean, you’re hurt. And probably lost a lot of blood. And hopped up on pain meds.”

Dean kissed Sam’s neck. “So?” he whispered.

Sam stood up and stepped out of the tub. “So you should go to bed. To get some rest,” Sam added quickly seeing Dean’s expression.

“You’re no fun.” He stood up though, wet pants clinging to his thighs.

Sam tossed him a towel. “I’ll get you some dry clothes.” He scurried out of the bathroom before Dean could respond.

Dean had the towel around his waist when Sam came back. He handed him a clean shirt and boxers.

“Do you, um,” Sam started.

Dean dropped the towel and grabbed the boxers. Sam got a glimpse of Dean’s half hard dick before he spun around.

“You got this under control.” Sam left. He changed into his own set of clean dry clothes by the time Dean came out.

He still had a happy, doped up grin on his face when he approached Sam. He caught Sam’s waist and kissed him again. Sam ignored how not weird that felt and pushed him away gently.

“You’re hurt. You need rest.”

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll sleep better if you lay with me though. Always have.” He rubbed the back of his neck and gave Sam a shy smile.

Sam’s heart thudded in his chest. He wanted this to be real, but he wondered if it was more than drugs and blood loss making Dean act like this. Did he meet something other than werewolves? If he made a big deal about it though, Dean might stop doing, whatever this was. He swallowed. “Okay.”

Sam flipped the light off. They crawled under the covers laying on their backs close enough that Sam could feel Dean all along his side. Dean's hand found his in the dark and squeezed.

“Thanks for, well, everything.” Dean let go and rolled over. Sam lay there staring into the darkness listening to Dean's breathing even out into sleep.

Once he was sure Dean was asleep, he snuck out of bed. He grabbed the flask of holy water and a silver blade and crept up next to Dean. He flicked a couple drops onto Dean hand. Nothing happened. He pressed the blade against his skin. Nothing. He couldn't check for everything. He'd just have to see what happened in the morning.

He got into bed and curled up against Dean’s back.

The next time he woke up, it was to Dean trying to sneak out of bed, his feet hitting the floor

Sam rolled over and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “How you feelin’?”

“Uh, good. Peachy.” Dean stood up and headed for the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him.

“Okay,” Sam said dragging out the vowels in confusion.

He rubbed his face again and got up. He knocked on the bathroom door. “You want me to check your bandages? Make sure they aren’t bleeding or getting infected or something?”

“I’m fine,” Dean called.

Sam scratched his chest and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay.” He was back to behaving like normal it seemed. Sam flopped back onto the bed.

He was half asleep when Dean finally came out. He sat up.

“I thought you’d fallen asleep,” Dean grunted.

“I did, woke up again.” Sam yawned.

Dean sighed. “Look about last night...”

Sam snorted. “I’m not some chick you picked up, Dean. You were hopped up on pain meds and not thinking straight from blood loss. Bobby probably would have looked good to you. It was just a kiss. It didn’t mean anything to you.” Sam heart ached at the words. He didn’t want them to be true.

“Yeah.” Dean’s face relaxed and went to start getting dressed. He paused. “Wait, didn’t mean anything to me? Does that mean it did mean something to you?”

“What? No,” Sam scoffed. It sounded fake even to his own ears.

Dean sat next to Sam on the bed. “What would you do if I kissed you again right now?” Dean asked, watching Sam closely.

Sam frowned and laughed. “Uh, check you for possession.”

“You did that last night.”

Sam’s laughter died. He looked away. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. I woke up.”

“I just wanted to make sure it was-” Sam cut off.

“Real?” Dean brushed through Sam’s hair and ran his fingers along Sam’s neck. “Look at me.”

Sam turned.

Dean kissed him.

Sam made a soft noise through his nose, tangling his fingers in Dean’s shirt to hold him closer.

Dean pulled away, and Sam chased him, resting his forehead against Dean’s shoulder.

“Is this real?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, Sam.” Dean sighed. “It’s real. And wrong, and bad and dirty. And not in a fun way. In a fucked up, go to jail rapist pedophile way.”

Sam scoffed. “I’m not a kid. I’m old enough and clear headed enough to give consent. Unlike you last night. It’s not wrong. We aren’t dirty.”

It was Dean’s turn to scoff.

“We aren’t.” Sam moved to straddle Dean’s hips. Dean looked like he wanted to stop him but didn’t. “This doesn’t feel wrong, or bad. I want this, and if you do to why fight it. We aren’t hurting anyone.”

“God, Sam.” Dean buried his hands in Sam’s hair, kissing him hard and desperate. “I want this too. I want you,” he whispered against Sam’s lips.

“Then take me.” Sam smirked in challenge.

Dean groaned, gripped Sam's hips and started to turn them. He winced, the groan turning pained.

Sam stopped him. “Okay, maybe not right now,” he said with a laugh.

Dean pouted, lower lip jutting out and everything. “I’m fine.”

Sam laughed harder and kissed him. “I guess if we're careful…” Sam grinned. He pushed Dean's shoulders to get him to lay back and slid between his knees.

Dean bit his lip and his eyes never left Sam’s face as he kissed over his hips. Sam mouthed at Dean’s cock, thickening beneath the rough fabric of the cheap boxers. Dean's fingers combed through Sam's hair in encouragement.

Sam tugged the waist of Dean’s boxers down enough to pull out his cock. He stroked it a few times, swirling the moisture gathering at the tip around with his thumb. Dean's eyes fell closed and he bucked up into Sam’s hand with a soft moan.

Sam took the opportunity to wrap his lips around Dean’s cock, making Dean moan louder. Sam sucked harder.

“Fuck, Sam.” Dean’s fingers curled against the back of Sam head.

Sam hummed at the broken sound of Dean’s voice, his cock twitching in his boxers. He tightened his lips over his teeth, sliding down as far as he could over Dean’s cock.

“God, where’d you learn how to do that?” Dean asked. Sam swallowed past his gag reflex. “Fuck, never mind. Don't answer that, just keeping going.”

Sam smiled and swirled his tongue. He supported himself on one hand over Dean. He got his other hand around his own cock, stroking in time with the movement of his head.

The newness of it and the fact that it was Dean writhing and moaning beneath him had Sam close in no time.

“Sam, I'm gonna come,” Dean warned.

Sam bobbed his head, sucking through the ache starting in his jaw. Dean came with a groan, bitter sticky liquid filling Sam’s mouth in spurts. Sam worked him through it, sucking out every last drop.

Sam didn't swallow till Dean’s hooded eyes found his. Sam brushed his thumb over the corner of his mouth and licked it clean.

“Come here,” Dean beckoned.

Sam stood and straddled him carefully. Dean pulled him down for a kiss, tasting himself on Sam's tongue with a groan.

“Did you…?” Dean asked when they broke apart.

Sam shook his head.

“You want me-”

Sam shook his head again. “You're hurt.” Sam said to soften the refusal. He licked his lips, dragging his teeth across the lower one. “You can watch for now.”

Sam tugged his boxers down and stroked himself slowly a few times, watching Dean’s reaction. Dean's eyes darkened and his cock twitched in a feeble attempt to get hard again. Sam sped up, feeling the heat build quickly at the base of his spine.

“You look so good, Sam.” Dean gripped his hips and ran his hands over Sam’s thighs.

Sam’s orgasm rocked through him, pearly drops of come landing on Dean’s cock and lower belly.

“Fucking beautiful,” Dean murmured, pulling Sam down for another kiss. “Next time it's me making you look like that.”

Sam swallowed at the promise. “Yeah, once you're better.”

They lay there quietly for a while, Sam’s head tucked under Dean’s chin.

“So, breakfast and see what's on TV?” Dean suggested. “I'm starving.”

Sam’s stomach gurgled. “Good plan.”

They got up, cleaned off and dressed, sharing shy smiles when they caught each other looking.

Sam grabbed the keys. “No driving till you're better.”

Dean grimaced. “No driving, no sex, next you’ll tell me no junk food.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You shouldn't eat that stuff.”

They got in the car and Sam paused. “So, this... isn’t gonna change anything between us?”

Dean shrugged. “Somethings will change, like you being naked way more often.”

Sam laughed.

“No, we’re good man.”

Sam leaned over to drop a grateful kiss on Dean’s mouth. “Good.” He started the car and drove off.


End file.
